


Small Wonder

by NowAstoundMe (orphan_account)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NowAstoundMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Has anyone seen Grantaire?"</p>
<p>Or, the one in which they find a de-aged Grantaire in his apartment, and no one knows how or why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where's R?

Whilst it wasn't unusual for Grantaire to lose a day, or even two after one of Bahorel's big birthday bashes, as Jehan had so ecstatically dubbed them, three days with no contact from the cynic has many of Les Amis concerned. When the meeting of the rag tag band of revolutionaries had past and the seat reserved for Grantaire remained empty, the level of worry had risen dramatically, the quite of the room usually filled by drunken rambling grated on the nerves of the large group of friends. 

It was no secret to the group that the idealist leader of Les Amis and the resident cynic clashed so greatly, Enjolras stood at the end of the meeting, his final speech completed, completely unaware of the tension of the room.

"Where's Grantaire?"

Feuilly, who had sat resolutely through the meetings of the students, was the first to reply.

"He hasn't been to work in days. He was meant to be on shift with me today but he didn't show or call. You know how 'R loves his job as a barista, it's not like him not to at least tell someone he can't come in."

"He was a no show for our boxing match yesterday night either," Bahorel interjected, "he's been telling me all week how he was going to wipe the floor with me but he didn't turn up, and eventually I just left."

Enjolras frowned, "You didn't bother to check on him after he didn't show up?"

"He's a big boy," Bahorel shrugged, "he can take care of himself."

Combeferre, sat stoutly beside Enjolras stood before gently placing his hand on Enjolras' shoulder, "This will be the first meeting he has missed since he began attending, believe in the cause or not, he is always here when we meet."

Shock flashed briefly over Enjolras' feature, before he turned once more to the people sat in front of him, "Has anyone heard from him, a call or a text at least?"

A selection of shaking heads made something hard and ugly settle in Enjolras' stomach, as worry began to uncoil, "Perhaps we should check on him? That is the least we could do, as his friends. Courf, you will go with me?" 

***

Although all his friends were important to Enjolras, Courfeyrac was the only one of them to know how much more than friendly his feelings towards Grantaire were, and why he had volunteered to walk through the run down neighborhood where Grantaire's apartment was situated despite the night drawing ever closer.

"He'll be fine, Enj. Probably kick us out for disturbing his whilst he's onto his next big art project or something."

"Yeah, well, I just think everyone will feel better if we checked on him. Its not like him to go so long without talking to anyone."

Courfeyrac gave Enjolras a glance, allowing his to understand that he could see through the flimsy excuse that Enjolras had created, and led the way through the dingy hallways which led to Grantaire's apartment, before coming to a stop at a rough brown door. Courfeyrac pulled a spare key from his pocket before winking at Enjolras. 

"He didn't know that I have a key, so I really hope you have a good way of thanking me for this."

"Courf, if he doesn't know you have a key how did you get it? Why would you need it?"

Courfeyrac winked again before slotting the key into the lock, "That's for me to know, and you to try and bribe out of me."

Elbowing his way through, Enjolras stopped, surprised at the neat apartment laid before him. Whereas he had been expecting beer bottles strewn across the floor and equipment tossed haphazardly, he found a large clear room.

As well as the face of a small child frowning up at him.


	2. A tiny 'Taire

Muddy brown eyes briefly met Enjolras' before ficking back towards the floor, a mop of curly dark hair disheveled from sleep and neglect filled Enjolras' vision as anger settled deep in his stomach. 

"Courf, who the hell is this? and where the fuck is Grantaire." he spat.

Courfeyrac frowned, "I didn't know Grantaire had a kid. Even he wouldn't be idiotic enough to leave a kid this small on his own, right?"

Courfeyrac's voice, which had been growing steadily higher as he spoke was cut of by a short squeak and a whimper. The child, clad only in an adults t-shirt, had curled himself back into the corner of the room, desperately attempting to shield his head. Both adults looks at one another, at a loss.

Enjolras, staring tiredly at the small boy, whispered, "I think we scared him."

"Hi," Courfeyrac's gentlest voice appeared loud in the quiet of the room, "my names Courf, who're you?"

The small face looked up again as Courfeyrac settled in front of the child, wild eyed and lip trembling, Enjolras could barely make out the words, "'m 'Taire."

"Well 'Taire, how long have you been here then?"

The small childish features scrunched into a look of utter concentration, "Three, I think. 'Cuz I got really sleepy and sleeped three times since I woke up here."

Courfeyrac and Enjolras shared a short look of concern, before Enjolras knelt in front, "'Taire, like Grantaire, yeah? Do you know where your mummy and daddy are?"

The smaller Grantaire nodded before a look of panic came across his features, "Mummy and daddy are in the c-coun-try side, I waked up here on my own, where's my sister?"

Enjolras blinked rapidly, "Your sisters not here. What's your first name? The one before Grantaire."

Courfeyrac stared disbelievingly at Enjolras, "You aren't seriously thinking what I think your thinking. You can't be, Enj, that's just mad. People don't just turn into children when your not looking! I'm not going to turn around and find a tiny Enjolras."

"Well, what do you think. Our 'Taire grew up in the country, just outside of the city. The only thing that has been stable since we have known him, apart from his relationship with a bottle, is his relationship with his sister. Not to mention he's been here the entire time our 'Taires been gone."

"Look," Coufeyrac began placatingly, "I know you like Grantaire, and want to think the best of everyone, but that sort of thing just doesn't happen. We have to be logical about this. This is a kid who has been here for three days, has probably eaten nothing and whose only source of water is the questionable jug that's sat on our 'Taires coffee table."

Enjolras' look of concentration began to fade, "We'll take him bake to Joly's, he can look him over and make sure that the kids alright, and he can take some blood. He'll be able to test it against the samples he took from all of us when he was convinced we had TB."

"Joly took our blood?"

"I think you were asleep or something. Anyway, it's a win - win situation. What do you say 'Taire, would you like to come with us to meet our friend?"

Small eyes light up in wonder, "You won't send me back to papa?" he asked hesitantly.

Courfeyrac's eyes narrowed, "We don't know yet, sprout, but if you come with us i promise I'll get us an ice cream."

Grantaire looked down at his feet before glancing shyly at Enjolras, "En-'ras will carry me?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac smiled, "Enjolras will carry you."


	3. Tales of Terror

Bossuet continued to make short spluttering noises as he pushed the small toy truck across the table toward Grantaire, "Beep beep, R, or I'm going to run you over!" 

Childish squeals of laughter filled Joly's small apartment as Bossuet began to run the toy over Grantaire's arms, distracting him from the conversation taking place on Joly's overstuffed sofa. Courfeyrac sat, face pinched with worry as he remained beside Enjolras whose face was shadowed and hard, swallowed before moving to perch at the edge of the seat.

Joly, looking worn, barely met Courfeyrac's eyes before beginning, "He didn't even question it, just let you pick him up and take him?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac swallowed,"he didn't seem bothered as long as we didn't hurt him. Enj carried him all the way here, 'Taire didn't let go the entire time, kept his arms around Enjolras' neck so he'd keep him close."

Joly nodded, a solemn expression stealing over his face, "I think it's very likely that child has been abused, physically and mentally."

"He seems fine," Enjolras interjected, "he's happy over there with Bossuet, was fine with us, happy even."

Joly nodded, "I know that you would like to believe that no one would do that, but it happens Enjolras. The signs are there -"

"What signs!" Courfeyrac demanded, his face steadily reddening in anger.

"Compliance," Joly continued, "the child did everything I asked of him when I examined him, didn't question Bossuet when took him away from me, he just went with it. Courf, children are loud and hyper, it is generally very difficult to control them when you need to examine them, but 'Taire, he just did exactly what I said, and continues to do everything we ask. When I asked about his parents he didn't care as long as they weren't around him, I know neither of you are psychologists but even you must see that is important, and any other child would be distressed?"

Enjolras gasped, placing his hands over his face as Joly continued to voice his suspicions, "When I asked him something he seemed so afraid of getting it wrong, withdrew into himself when he though he gave me a wrong answer." Joly began to force the words out, his teeth gritted in anger," He shied away from me when I tried to touch him, and from Bossuet before he realized that his only intent was to play. I found bruises, Enj, clusters of them. That means someone has grabbed him. There where burns on the insides of his knees, on the soft tissue, bruising on his ribs. Don't you get what I'm saying?"

Quiet settled over the three men, Courfeyrac began to speak quickly and quietly, "We cant let him go back to where he was, to whoever he was with."

"That's obvious," Enjolras spluttered, "but all we know is that he has the name Grantaire, we don't know is he's even our 'Taire."

"Of course he's our 'Taire, Enj," Bossuet added from his place beside Grantaire, "look at him. I've known 'R for years, we weren't much older than this when we met, and this is definitely how I remember him. If you don't believe me..."

As the others assured him they trusted his judgement, Bossuet began to pull pictures from his worn wallet, passing them over to Joly.

"Courf, this is 'Taire. That child sat at the table is Grantaire, and there is no medical reason I have ever known that could cause this!" Joly's voice began to rise as Courfeyrac and Enjolras looked over the faded images. 

"You kept these in your wallet all this time?" Coufeyrac asked.

"Well, they came in handy didn't they?" Bossuet laughed, placing a calming had on Joly's shoulder. 

"'Ras?" Grantaire having removed himself from the table, rubbed his eyes tiredly, "'m sleepy. Go sleep, 'Ras stay?"

Grantaire blinked rapidly in an effort to keep himself awake, swayed on his feet, and pitched forward into Enjolras. Catching him before he could harm himself, Enjolras placed Grantaire into his lap and curled his arms protectively around him. 

"I'll be right here when you wake up 'Taire." Enjolras promised.

Grantaire sniffled before attempting to burrow into Enjolras' jumper, grabbing the material in his small hands, and placing his messy curls on the revolutionaries chest.

"Well," Courfeyrac cooed,"I think it's apparent that 'Taire has a favourite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I write here are actual signs of abuse. Please, don't stand by if you believe a child is being mistreated.

**Author's Note:**

> If you could tell me if this is something you want to read, or what you think about the style. that would be great :)


End file.
